


Put Me in the Backseat

by cailures



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cailures/pseuds/cailures
Summary: Jake and Amy go undercover in a BDSM club.  Rosa wishes she'd broken her ears instead of her arm.





	Put Me in the Backseat

**Author's Note:**

> For #6

"I don't think I can do this," Amy said for like the hundredth time. "All these people have whips and spikes and enough self-confidence to not realize how silly their outfits are. I wish that perp hadn't broken your arm."

" _You_ wish." Little fucker had broken her collarbone too. Rosa had to ride the bus to work like a dweeb. Yesterday some dude sat down next to her and tried to tell her to smile while she was glowering off into space. That never happened on her motorcycle. Although it had been pretty satisfying to kick him through the bus doors at the next stop. She would have shoved him out the window but the windows were too small. 

Busses were lame.

"Why does it have to be me? Why can't it be someone else?"

"What," snorted Rosa, "like Boyle? And you remember what happened the last time Terry chased a suspect into a sex club."

"Seven or eight of those people really did have things Terry could arrest them for."

Number eight had been on the verge of convincing Amy that the aspirin in her bag really was the newest party drug while begging Terry to cuff her good and hard, right there, on the desk. Yeah, they'd got a guy for millions in insider trading, but it had still been more annoying than sitting in the passenger seat of an unmarked sedan and babysitting Amy and Jake via headset with her stupid broken arm folded across her chest. "And the other twenty were wasting our time and blocking the doors. And I only have one hand for paperwork."

"I can do the paperwork for you! I love paperwork!"

"She does," said Jake. He was enjoying this way too much. He'd spent hours shopping for what he called the perfect outfit with Boyle. Rosa didn't think anything that combined Jake Peralta with chaps could be called perfect. "Maybe that's how we should play it. Ooh, mistress, dot me like one of your i's! Cross me like one of your t's! Do me in triplicate!"

"That doesn't-- Do you even know what triplicate means?"

Rosa sighed. Amy was right, she wasn't any good at this or she'd have told Jake to shut his stupid mouth instead of arguing with him about triplicate. "Can you see Petrovna anywhere?"

There was a pause. "No," said Amy. "Your reports said she was six two with platinum blonde hair, so either she's dyed it or she's not here."

"Or in the back room. Try to remember what I wrote in my reports." 

"Excuse you," said Amy, "I remember your reports. I read them twice. I summarized them for Jake. I highlighted the summaries. _I used post-it notes._ " 

Rosa grinned. "That's the attitude. Now, Jake, kneel at her feet or something. I can hear you chewing ice through both Amy's mic and yours and Petrovna's not going to take either of you seriously if you're acting like a bad sub."

"Don't say sub," said Jake, "I woke up too late for breakfast and haven't had lunch today yet."

"Get on the floor, Peralta."

There was a huge, obnoxious sigh, but Jake did as he was told. In the planning stages they hadn't even bothered prepping Jake, because he'd do what Rosa told him to most of the time. And they hadn't bothered prepping Rosa because it was easy. You walked in there, made uncomfortable eye contact with some Fetlife loser until he brought you a drink and you threw it in his face because it was some gross neon color garnished with gross neon fruit, and then he spent the next few hours crawling around after you and whispering about the credit card fraud one of the owners was running from the back room. They should've spent a little more time on Jake after Rosa broke her arm and Amy had to take over, but they were too busy working on Amy.

And still hadn't done enough, because Amy hissed, "What are you doing, Jake?"

Jake's reply was garbled and then it wasn't. "Licking your boots."

"Good," said Rosa. "Those freaks do that kind of thing all the time."

"Hey, Amy, dump some hot sauce on this, it'll taste like jerky."

_"No."_

"But I haven't eaten anything since some stale Doritos and a slurpee last night," Jake whined.

Rosa had one good hand and she used it to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"That," said Amy, very Amy-ishly, "is your problem. If you can't be bothered to feed yourself, you don't deserve hot sauce on my shoes."

"Hello," said a voice in a very thick Russian accent. "Is this little man not behaving himself?"

There was a crash--Jake's head banging against the table--an "ow," and then an outraged, _"Leetle?"_

"No," said Amy. To Petrovna she probably sounded calm, but to Rosa she just sounded petrified. "No, he is not."

"Good," said Rosa. "Remember: he should obey you. You're in control here. Remind him of that." 

She could hear Amy take a deep breath. When she spoke next her voice really did sound calm, and measured, and kind of familiar. "Jackie," she asked, "did I say you could speak?"

"No, captain," said Jake.

Amy's breathing changed again. For a second Rosa thought that all the leather and six-inch stilettos and chains had gotten to her and she was going to have to call in backup while Amy had a panic attack and blew the whole operation, and then she realized that Amy wasn't panicking, Amy was--ugh--getting turned on. Rosa had told them both she would drop kick them off the Brooklyn Bridge if they _ever_ told her anything about their sex life, and now she had to hear about it for work.

"So don't speak." Normally Amy would have said that with a poisonous sweetness, but now she said it tersely and authoritatively like Captain Holt. Which apparently worked on Jake and got Amy worked up. Gross.

"You handle him well," said the Russian voice. Probably Ludmila Petrovna. There couldn't be that many Russian dominatrixes in one club. Rosa radioed the standby units in case there was trouble, and almost missed Amy saying that, indeed, Jackie needed a great deal of handling.

Jake normally would never let a line like that go. Rosa could hear him biting something--maybe his lip, maybe his hand, maybe Amy's shoe again--so hard it sounded like he was in pain. It must have been Petrovna. 

"But why," Petrovna wanted to know, "does he call you 'captain'?" 

"Jackie," said Amy, "you may talk long enough to answer that."

Jake's gulp was audible. "You know," he said, "the whole O Captain, My Captain, and all that. Also, she rocks my boat, if you know what I mean and I think--"

"Jackie." Amy's voice cracked like the whip Boyle had insisted she take, even though she had no idea how to use it. Rosa had tried to teach her, not because she thought it would work but because watching her flail around with it had been hilarious. But actually taking it on the operation was a terrible idea, so of course Boyle had convinced them to do it. It was part of Jackie and Jacquelynne McSpankbottoms' _aesthetic_ , he said about a billion times. Rosa couldn't believe they'd listened to someone who used words like aesthetic. It was worse than when Gina, and subsequently Jake, had decided to call everything trill. At least trill was a real word that real people used. "I said be quiet, and I meant be quiet."

"Yes, captain."

There was a squeak of leather against leather. Rosa did not even want to know. "That's my title," said Amy, a little breathlessly. " _Don't_ wear it out."

The driver's side door opened. Holt was finally back with their food. Rosa had no idea how getting two hot dogs could take so long. Normally she wouldn't have minded since she got both hot dogs--Captain Holt said hot beef water on a plain bun was sufficient flavor for him for one meal--but she needed a distraction. Any distraction.

She swerved in her seat, and he must have misread the look on Rosa's face because he clipped on his headset and asked, "Jake, Amy, everything under control?"

"Nnnngh," said Jake. "Mmmmfffmrrrrph."

"Good god," said Holt. "They've been discovered. Bound and gagged." Technically Rosa could have stopped him before he ordered Terry and Boyle in to rescue them, and then, gun low, went in himself, but it had been a long day and she hadn't had lunch either and didn't think she could eat while listening to Jake and Amy's sex tape.

She stuck the extra hot dog in her bun and began to eat. 

"Captain," Jake whimpered over the headset, "I think I have a situation in my pants."


End file.
